


lay us down (we’re in love)

by wearethefoxes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fake Angst, Feels, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, No Main Character Death, No Spoilers, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie) - Freeform, Post-Endgame, Press and Tabloids, Various Avengers - Freeform, but trust me these geriatrics are horny, fade to black sexytimes bc i'm weak, i assume, mostly fluff??, no avengers were harmed in the making of this fic, seems like it will be angsty but then isn't, this grew feels, this is a blatant coping mechanism, very little angst, written before endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-10 22:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18416732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethefoxes/pseuds/wearethefoxes
Summary: “Was it terrible?” Bucky asks. He’s sloppily eating some kind of Brazilian black bean stew, dribbles of it sliding down his chin. Steve is charmed despite himself, but he passes him a napkin anyway while he considers the question.“No,” he admits at last, and he must sound more reluctant than he meant because Bucky slants a look at him. He laughs, pushing at Bucky’s metal arm, which is halfway around his back anyway and making it hard to eat. “No, it really wasn’t. Nat and Tony spoke, said some good stuff. There was a priest,” Bucky snorts, “shuddup, he read some nice Psalms but it wasn’t full-on Catholic.”“Good,” Bucky says, leaning in to kiss Steve on the mouth.





	lay us down (we’re in love)

**Author's Note:**

> hi i see endgame in 2.5 days and i’m #panicking

He watches the press coverage alone in a motel room somewhere in South America. Brazil, he thinks, although Rio de Janeiro was a while ago now and he’s definitely moved on since then. The _where_ of it all has seemed less important since everything. Since Thanos. Since -

The news scrawl at the bottom of the screen reads, “A Nation In Mourning: How America Copes With The Loss Of Its Greatest Hero,” while men and women in black fill up the pews. A smaller screen off to the side of the funeral coverage is playing a slideshow of shots of Captain America. Most of them look like candids, shot after shot of the Captain and the shield, stars and stripes on display, looking appropriately gritty and patriotic. He snorts and switches to a different news station.

This one is showing straight coverage with no commentary, just in time for the service to start. It’s not quite a Catholic funeral, but it is still taking place at a Catholic church, a big and beautiful one with stained glass windows and high ceilings. The priest does an introductory rite and says a few prayers over the casket, which is closed and draped with an American flag. A church choir sings something somber, in traditional Latin as the Captain learned it all the way back when. Tony and Natasha both give eulogies; Natasha’s, surprisingly, is the funny one, joking about her struggles to get him to date, about teaching him of the 21st century. Her smiles are small and the bags under her eyes deep. Tony’s is more somber, more befitting a hero, an icon. He talks about Steve’s heroism on the field and his dedication to his morals, acknowledging their conflicts in a way choked with grief and regret.

Its dusk outside the motel room by the time the funeral service finishes. He turns on a lamp as onscreen the casket is carried down and out of the church. Most of the Avengers are pallbearers, though Sam is the only one openly crying and Rhodes follows behind them with his braces. He watches one brave reporter stop Tony Stark after the casket is on its way to Arlington, and after a brief hesitation, he switches channels to watch the interview.

“-and obviously the conflict just got blown out of proportion, if the Rogers Accords are any indication,” Tony is saying. “I mean, in the end we were friends. We fought together and we trusted each other. In the end we won because of that. I only wish we’d had more time-” He breaks off, wipes his eyes. The reporter makes a sympathetic sound.

“Right, right,” she says. “And how do you feel, knowing that the Winter Soldier is still out there?”

“The White Wolf,” Tony corrects, somewhat fiercely. “Look, who can blame him? I’m not worried. We were lucky to get him back after the snap, and there’s no way we wouldn’t have won without everyone on our side. Bucky was part of that.”

“You’re not worried about his time as the Winter Soldier, or the trigger words?”

“If Wakanda vouches for him, then I believe them,” Tony says, smiling dryly, and the reporter laughs a little. _Stark, you fucking charmer_.

“Why wasn’t he at the service today, then?”

Tony sighs, his shoulders slumping. He rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Look, if we owe him anything, we owe him his distance. His best friend died, he technically died, all of this after being an international fugitive for a few years before that. And Steve vouched for him, to the very end,” Tony said pointedly.

The reporter at least had the decency to look chastised. “Of course, of course. On that note, how do you feel about Barnes being a condition of Rogers’ revised Accords? I know there was-”

Tony cut her off. “I’ve got to get to Arlington in time for the Rite of Committal and taps, ma’am. Obviously I have thrown my full support behind the Rogers Accords. Anything you want to know about my opinion on it was part of our original release. Excuse me.”

A limo pulls up behind him and Tony climbs inside without another word. The reporter calls after him, but the limo pulls away and she’s forced to turn back to her cameraman.

“Well I guess that’s all Tony Stark has to say about Captain America, folks,” she says, visibly frustrated. “He notably avoided topics such as the disappearance of one James-”

The motel room door opens. He lurches forward, fumbles the remote, and presses _mute_ on the tv coverage.

The man who enters starts talking as soon as he bumps the door shut behind him with his hip. With his arms full of paper grocery bags, the only visible part of him is the crown of his skull, covered in dark hair. One of the arms wrapped around the grocery bags is wearing a glove. “I couldn’t find the kind of PopTarts you wanted, the selection was pretty slim, I’m surprised I found any at all actually. I did pick up some food on my way home, they had some stuff we hadn’t tried before, so I don’t want to hear a word out your mouth about it, got it?” He sets the grocery bags down on the table and half turns to address the other man, catching sight of the TV as he does so.

He only watches the screen, which is showing a somewhat crass “highlight reel” of the service, for a moment before he turns to face the man on the bed. Gravely, he says, “Steven Grant Rogers.” He shakes his head, peeling the glove off his metal hand. He starts to smile. “You fucking narcissist. Are you watching your own goddamn funeral?”

 

“Was it terrible?” Bucky asks. He’s sloppily eating some kind of Brazilian black bean stew, dribbles of it sliding down his chin. Steve is charmed despite himself, but he passes him a napkin anyway while he considers the question.

“No,” he admits at last, and he must sound more reluctant than he meant because Bucky slants a look at him. He laughs, pushing at Bucky’s metal arm, which is halfway around his back anyway and making it hard to eat. “No, it really wasn’t. Nat and Tony spoke, said some good stuff. There was a priest,” Bucky snorts, “shuddup, he read some nice Psalms but it wasn’t full-on Catholic.”

“Good,” Bucky says, leaning in to kiss Steve on the mouth. He tastes like pork and beans and honestly it’s a little gross, but after months of Bucky gone in the soul stone, he doesn’t push him away. Bucky hums, leaning further over Steve’s body on the bed and setting their food aside for now. Steve submits to it, letting Bucky bite at his lips and play with his tongue. He’s just contemplating rolling onto his back when his phone starts to ring.

For a moment it doesn’t compute, but still Steve is the one to push Bucky off, muttering, “fuck,” and searching for the phone in the pockets of worn jeans. It resurfaces in a pair of Bucky’s jeans that Steve must have borrowed to just piss him off, because Bucky’s jeans don’t really fit Steve and Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead with Stark’s flip phone.

“Tony,” Steve answers with a sigh, glancing at the red clock on the nightstand, “shouldn’t you be at Arlington already?”

“Nope, they’re not starting til dusk and we’re what, an hour behind you guys? Two? Where are you now anyway?”

Steve ignores the question by flopping back onto the bed on his stomach. He places the phone on the covers and presses the speaker button; Bucky takes the opportunity to plaster himself along Steve’s back.

“Actually don’t answer that,” Tony continues after a breath, and Steve smiles. “Did you watch it? What’d you think? The chapel was a bit ostentatious, I thought, but what do I know about Catholicism? Everyone knows I’m a godless man.”

Bucky’s smiling against his neck now too. “I watched it. Your eulogy was good. Very touching,” Steve says dryly.

“Yeah, that fine arts credit at MIT had to be good for something. Hey, did you see the interview? Was that part of the news coverage? Vultures, the lot of them, I swear to fuck. Trying to get some gossip from me at a funeral, how tacky.”

“I saw it, Tony. You did good.”

“Thank you, thank you, no need for the applause. Hey, speaking of the cyborg, is he with you? Did he see the interview?”

“Right here, Tony,” Bucky says dryly. He’s been behaving very well for being lying on top of Steve, but after he speaks he scrapes his teeth hard across the back of Steve's neck, and Steve shudders.

“Hey Buckaroo! I’m sure the clips will circulate but the press is already questioning your little disappearing act. We’ll keep em off your back and throw our support behind you either way, but if you’re ever coming back you better do it soon, before they get too antsy about a rogue Winter Soldier.” He sounds casual about it, and Steve warms inside at the easy tone of voice, the relaxation still present in Bucky’s body. Three years ago he never could have imagined this.

“I’m not leaving Steve behind,” Bucky growls. Steve shudders again at his voice, and Bucky’s scowl turns into a smirk. He bites at Steve’s neck again.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony says, exasperated enough that Steve can hear the eye roll. “No one’s fucking asking you to. Buy a box of hair dye and some fake IDs and you’re good to come back to the states any time, the both of you. The team could really use you on it, Barnes, and you know they’ll miss you, Steve. I mean, you saw Sam’s fucking waterworks at the funeral.”

Steve’s smiling again, fondly. “I’m pretty sure that was an act for the cameras all trained on my coffin, Tony.”

“Noooope, nope nope nope, that was all real. He’s been nesting. Doesn’t even whistle outside my room at dawn anymore. Instead he cries all mournful in the night like, like an owl or something. I’m not an ornithologist for fuck’s sake, why did I start this.”

Bucky’s laughing against his back now. “Jesus Christ, Stark, you’re a real piece of work. We’ll head back to the States once the Accords go through and all the funeral hubbub has died down a bit, okay?”

“Great,” Tony says immediately, and Steve can hear the smile in his voice. “Accords are set to go through without resistance, thanks to our hero’s sacrifice. It was _awfully_ convenient that T’challa just _happened_ to have a draft of revised Accords sitting around Wakanda that we both agreed on, just in time for you to throw yourself at Thanos.”

“Yeah, it was one hell of a coincidence,” Steve says, as dryly as he can, and Tony gratifies him with a laugh. Bucky’s tense against his back now though, no doubt remembering when Steve went down at Thanos’s hand. It was the distraction they needed to give Tony and Shuri the time to build their weapon, but Steve was lucky that they were able to get him out before Thanos could finish him off. Even then, it had taken him ages to wake up. It had been worth it though, to wake up to the news that their plan had worked, that they’d won and the world didn’t expect anything of them for the time being. News had spread quickly of Steve’s “sacrifice” in the aftermath, without any of the good news attached, and Steve had decided to just- leave it. To take the out he’d been given and just be _Steve_ again.

Tony’s voice jolts him out of his thoughts. “Hey, we’re at Arlington now. Don’t be strangers, okay?”

“Of course, Tony. Enjoy taps,” Steve says, already reaching out for the phone.

“And make it to my fucking wedding!” Tony shouts, just as Steve hangs up.

 

“You know I’m good now, right?” Steve asks, much, much later. Its fully dark out now and the only light still shining is the blue of the TV, sound still muted. Bucky’s spooned up behind him, his breath damp on the back of Steve’s neck as they lay on their sides.

Bucky’s arms tighten. “I know,” he whispers. He presses a kiss to Steve’s bare shoulder. “You didn’t see it, though.”

“No, I didn’t,” Steve agrees. He turns fully in Bucky’s arms, presses one kiss, then two, to Bucky’s lips. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, between kisses which slowly turn deeper. “I’m sorry, I’m here.”

They lose more time, lost in each other.

“What’re the news people saying now?” Bucky asks some time later. He’s lying on top of Steve now, his chin resting on Steve’s abs, and he’s tracing absent shapes with his fingers across Steve’s ribs, pressing hard enough occasionally to tickle him.

Steve hums, lifting his eyes from where he’d been dopily smiling down at Bucky. He gropes for the remote and presses a button for subtitles, not wanting to disturb their stillness with the noise. “Ummm lots of rehashing the best moments of the service. New shots of Avengers crying in the pews.” Bucky snorts, the huff of his breath tickling Steve enough that he pinches Bucky’s bare ribs in retaliation. Bucky retaliates back by goosing him, and there’s a brief moment of giggling and grappling before some red, white, and blue on screen draws his eye again. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Bucky repeats, in a much more dangerous tone, trying to twist to see the screen.

Steve subdues him, kissing his jaw and turning his chin. He smiles and kisses Bucky’s nose. “Nothing bad,” he says softly. “They’re just wondering why I wasn’t buried with the shield.”

Bucky glances to the side of the bed by the window, where the shield sits hidden in the shadows. He turns back to Steve, questioning.

Steve sighs and gazes at the ceiling. “There’ll be speculation soon, of course.”

“Are you going to keep it?” There’s no judgement in Bucky’s voice, but Steve feels his hackles rising up anyway. Bucky soothes him back down with a hand along his flank and a nudge of their entangled feet.

“No,” he says on a sigh. He looks at Bucky and suddenly feels overcome with tenderness. He pushes some of Bucky’s hair back from his face, and when the feeling keeps rising he closes his eyes.

“Hey,” Bucky says, very softly. He entwines his fingers with Steve’s. “Steve.”

“I wanted you to have it,” Steve blurts, and Bucky goes still. “You and Sam. I like the idea of Captain America as a mantle, not a person, and I thought - maybe the two of you would, would be willing to take that on from me, to share it together.” Bucky is still not moving. It hardly even feels like he’s breathing, though Steve can feel his breath ghosting across his ribs. He backpedals, panicking. “Of course I can just ask Sam if you don’t want it, I would never expect that of you if you didn’t want to-”

“Marry me,” Bucky says, and Steve’s eyes shoot open.

“What,” he breathes.

Bucky’s grinning at him in the shifting light of the TV, and suddenly he’s all motion again. He sits up in one swift move so that he’s straddling Steve, the blankets falling away to pool across his thighs, exposing his naked body to the flickering shadows, to the light spilling from over his shoulders. He’s sharp and beautiful and elated, smiling brighter than the TV.

“Marry me,” he repeats. His smile is splitting his face. “It’d have to be under a fake name of course, and it couldn’t be here. We could take something from our old life- maybe you could be Grant or something. I could still be James Barnes but we’d keep it under wraps. Show up to Tony and Pepper’s wedding already fucking married, god Tony would be so pissed and it would be worth it just for that. What do you say, Stevie? You up for another adventure?”

Steve gapes at him. That tender feeling is rising up in him again, tightening in his chest and rushing up his face like a blush, warm and tingling. It bursts in his chest with a flood of warmth, and he’s embarrassed to feel his eyes start to burn.

He grabs Bucky by the hair and kisses him hard.

“Yes,” he chokes out between kisses, “yes yes yes yes _yes-”_

“Slow down, soldier,” Bucky laughs, wiping underneath Steve’s eyes and pulling back from his questing mouth.

“ _No,”_ Steve says, with a vehemence that surprises Bucky from the way his eyebrows rise. “I don’t want to slow down. Seventy years I wasted in that ice. Seventy years asleep with you out there, trapped and waiting for me. I’m not missing my chance again.” His eyes spill over again, and Bucky’s face softens, the laughter slipping away but none of the warmth. “I want this, Buck. Whenever you’re ready to go back. I want this.”

Bucky’s eyes search his face, his thumbs still idly wiping away the moisture from under Steve’s eyes. Whatever he sees in Steve must be good, because his expression brightens slowly, like a flower leaning into the sun. “Okay, Stevie,” he says, with reverence. “Let’s get married.”

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote 80% of this in the last hour and it's almost 4am here so if you see typos please just forgive me lmao
> 
> this isn't really speculation to what i think will happen in endgame so much as wish fulfillment. that movie is gonna hit me like a fucking truck. commiserate with me in the comments with your theories and predictions or just cry on me, either is good. no spoilers if you read this later!!!!
> 
> comments and kudos are love!! i've never really written anything marvel before so feedback is appreciated, just please be gentle with me!!!
> 
> i'm on tumblr @allyaisbae


End file.
